Musings of the Butterfly
by lilith210
Summary: This is written like a butterfly telling stories, not necessarily the butterflies point of view
1. Pity

Musings of the Butterfly  
Pity  
  
Author's note: this is written like a butterfly telling stories, not necessarily the butterflies point of view. This particular story is from Molly's point of view. It is set in the castle, when Amalthea begins to forget who she is and about what Molly is feeling.  
  
I feel like the butterfly from The Last Unicorn, full of song and rhymes, but none of it makes sense. So this is why I write, so thoughts, songs, rhymes and riddles are organized. And that is why I'm writing this, I am a butterfly. So don't listen to me, listen.  
  
Her eyes are transparent, and her skin is such a pale white. She is slowly forgetting who she is. I see it, I see it all. Prince Leer thinks he loves her, but he does not know her. What she truly is.  
  
'Amalthea, please listen to me,' I beg.  
  
'Molly we have talked of this many times. Why must we again?' she says.  
  
She doesn't remember how can I make her remember, I open my mouth to speak yet I am cut off. Schmendrick billowed into the room smiling, he is always so happy with himself. He doesn't realize the damage her has done.  
  
Anger boils in my veins and I grab the pot closest to me and lunge it at his head. It hits the side of his head, blood streams down from the wound. Good.  
  
'What was that about?' he asks grabbed a towel and placing it on the wound.  
  
'You've killed her and her kind,' I storm from the room. I want to hate him, I do. It is entirely fault and yet. my love for him is so strong I cannot be to angry. No it is not anger I feel, but pity. Pity for both of them, her because she will soon forget all that had been so good. And pity for him because he is too blind to see the mistakes he has made. 


	2. The Perfect Name

I feel like the butterfly from The Last Unicorn, full of song and rhymes, but none of it makes sense. So this is why I write, so thoughts, songs, rhymes and riddles are organized. And that is why I'm writing this, I am a butterfly. _So don't listen to me, listen_.

Schmendrick kissed Molly's sweat drenched forehead, the baby n her arms squirmed and let out a tiny screech. "What should we name him?" Schmendrick asked pushing the baby's few strands of dark hair off of his forehead. A little girl with blond pigtails pulled on the magician's cloak. "Yes, Amalthea?" he questioned looking fondly down at the little girl.

"How about Lir?" she asked, her large green eyes looking imploringly at her father.

"Where did you hear that name?" he asked quietly, his green eyes reflecting her tiny figure. He lifted her up and balanced her on his hip. "Where did you hear that name?" he asked again.

"She told me," Amalthea said brightly. She gave an exhausted sigh at the looks of confusion on her parents' faces and continued. "The unicorn, she was really pretty. She told me all about an adventure with the Red Bull and Haggard. She said you two were there, but it couldn't be true, you two don't go on adventures. Anyway, I remember her saying the name Lir. It's a good name isn't it?" she looked at her father imploringly.

"Yes Lir is a very good name," said Molly.

"Yes," Schmendrick agreed and kissed the baby's head. "Lir is the perfect name."

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A/N: I know it's short, but hey give me a break at least I'm still writing. So any noodles, I do not own these characters or names the are © to Peter S. Beagle. I hope you enjoyed it because positive feedback makes me happy.


	3. Immortality

I feel like the butterfly from The Last Unicorn, full of song and rhymes, but none of it makes sense. So this is why I write, so thoughts, songs, rhymes and riddles are organized. And that is why I'm writing this, I am a butterfly. _So don't listen to me, listen_.

Schmendrick sits at the table staring at the apple that is sitting in front of him that he is trying to turn into a pear. He waves his hands over the apple whispering the incantation for the twelfth time, nothing happens. Nikos, who is standing behind him and watching over his shoulder, shakes his head. Schmendrick tries for the thirteenth time; the apple explodes and turns into a fish.

Both men watch as the fish struggles for breath and slowly dies on the table before them. Schmendrick cringes; he has always been terrified by the mere thought of death. Nikos looks sadly at the young magician, he has made up his mind, there is no other way.

"Schmendrick, we must talk," Nikos says turning Schmendrick's chair so that they are facing one another. "My son, your ineptitude is so vast, your incompetence so profound that I am certain you are inhabited by a greater power than I have ever known

"Unfortunately, it seems to be working backward at the moment, and even I can find no way to set it right. It must be that you are meant to find your own way to reach your power in time; but frankly, you should live so long as that will take you.

Therefore I grant it that you shall not age from this day forth, but travel the world round and round, eternally inefficient, until at last you come to yourself and know what you are," Schmendrick opens his moth to thank his mentor, but stops upon observing the grave look on his face.

"Don't thank me. I tremble at your doom," he tells the young magician. Nikos whispers the incantation and moves his hands over the magician's head.

He leaves Schmendrick sitting at the table, both scared and overjoyed at the same time.

_

* * *

A/N: If you couldn't figure it out, this is about the day Nikos puts his 'curse' on Schmendrick. I thought I'd improvise a little bit on Schmendrick's character, but the speech Nikos makes is directly from the book. Check if you don't believe me. Anyways all the characters are © to the great Peter S. Beagle._


End file.
